


Graffiti

by syri_chii



Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 03:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syri_chii/pseuds/syri_chii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Ohno has been doing is to stare at the white wall</p>
            </blockquote>





	Graffiti

It’s white, pure as snow white, no stain nor spot all over and somehow looking, staring at it makes him dizzy and nauseated.

He wants to paint something over it. Sometimes, he thinks it’s a big canvas and the artist in him cannot stop thinking of what he can draw or paint. If he would be given a chance, he’d paint _him, his face, his smile, his eyes, everything about him._

_He was, is, will be his inspiration._

He likes to paint and draw. It is his hobby and passion. Once upon a time when he still got his things, he used to sketch. He was a known artist. He had exhibits and galleries. His life was full of colors.

That was before everything fell apart, before they fell apart.

He comes to love gazing the white wall. That’s what he does all day. It reminds him of the days they used to spend time together idly, without the care in the world.

Their apartment walls were painted with white too, he remembered. Because Sho thought it was nice color and Ohno agreed all because later, he would scribble things which would earn him a scolding from Sho.

White as snow.

Other times, he feels vandalizing the wall, throwing cans of colors all over to erase its whiteness because to be honest he feels sick gazing at it. He wants to paint it black or gray.

Because its colorless reminds him what his life became after. Lifeless. He might as well paint it black as nothing. The absence of light, _His light_

There was one time when he was given with a pencil during his therapy. The next day, the people found scribbles all over the room. He was up all night, making it.

It was okay at first. They let him draw since drawing seemed to be calming him. That was the case until he began sketching _his_ face in his skin, telling the woman who discovered it one day that there was no more space to draw.

So his room got repainted.

It’s pure white now, just like his clothes he has been wearing for now. And he’s considering whether he hates it or not.

He has been staring at it for quite some time now when the door, which he forgets most of the time, opens up.

“Ohno-san, there’s someone who likes to see you,” Ohno faintly hears the woman’s words. He’s still staring at the white wall.

“Satoshi…”a baritone familiar voice calls out.

Ohno looks away from white wall to see the owner of the voice he missed standing at the door. The man has grown older, making Ohno think how long has it been. Ohno smiles and stands up. 

The man attempts to smile even though there’s sadness in his eyes while his heart breaks as he watches Ohno walks over to him, his white gown moves freely, looking like a child.

“Sho-kun, you came.”


End file.
